


Please break my heart

by inmyrosegarden



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Jealous!Harry, M/M, jealous!louis, well ok idk where i'm going with this but basically larry is the ship of dreams uwu, why have i started posting one shots so regularly wtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:43:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyrosegarden/pseuds/inmyrosegarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt, "i really want a fic where louis is jealous of michael.xxx"</p><p>To be fair, Louis’ the one that started it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please break my heart

**Author's Note:**

> lololoololololoolol considering the fact that i know 0% about the 5sos boys, it's a--shock (?) that i wrote this. yah anyway ok just tell me to stop with these one shots some time soon bc i mean i think i'm going crazy ha ha ha ahaaHAHAha byeeee
> 
> (title from (sigh, relli nova relli) "breezeblocks" by alt-j (like seriously they are fucking amazing man))

To be fair, Louis’ the one that started it.

Ever since the whole “Larry Stylinson” thing came up again—which was, in fact, bigger this time than ever mind you—Louis has been teasing Harry mercilessly. On stage, he’s either wrapped up around Niall or Zayn and when they have time off, he always goes out to fuck shit up with Liam. (Well, the second thing is mostly Louis fucking shit up and Liam just standing by and watching, but. Whatever. Same difference.)

Harry takes pride in how possessive he is. In all honesty, his possessiveness has led him to have some of the best sex of his life. So naturally, Louis flaunting off his more affectionate side with the other boys doesn’t exactly blow over well with Harry.

When the Take Me Home tour starts with 5 Seconds of Summer, well. That’s when Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

Upon meeting the 5sos boys, Harry instantly noticed that one in particular—a certain Michael Clifford, to be exact—was perfectly his _type._ Tall, thin, funny— _punk_. It’s just the kind of guy that Harry saw himself being with when he was growing up. He didn’t expect an Adonis to appear into his life and sweep him off his feet (figuratively, though. Louis’ too little to carry him, Harry thinks with a smirk).

So Harry starts off small. He teases Michael about his crush on Camilla from Fifth Harmony and Michael absolutely _hates_ him for it. It’s cool though, Harry thinks, as their banter and teasing leads to unsubtle flirting. Harry tells Michael just how “pretty” he is and how “anybody would be lucky to have” him. (He makes sure to do so when Louis is in the room, just so he can see how Louis’ jaw sets and how he makes his bitch face at Michael without any inhibitions.)

Michael just blushes profusely throughout the entirety of Harry’s flirting but later, he’ll act like nothing happened.

It infuriates Harry, it really does. Because Michael only takes those compliments quietly but he does nothing to  _return_ them. And he should—not so Harry will have an ego boost, but so Louis decides to  _do_ something about them. So Louis  _stops_ making Harry feel like a _bore_ all the time.

So one day before one of their concerts in London, Harry shows up on Michael’s doorstep. (Or more accurately, his _hotel-room-_ doorstep. But whatever.)

Michael seems surprised when he opens the heavy mahogany door. Harry’s beaming at him awkwardly with his teeth showing, that smile he does when he’s with little kids and the person taking their picture asks them to “say cheese!”

Michael looks hesitant. Narrowing his eyes, he gives Harry a once-over curiously. “What’d’you want, Styles?”

Harry grin collapses and his eyebrows knit together. “Heeey. Why did you assume that I  _want_ something from you?”

Michael blinks, bored. “Okay now I’m a hundred percent certain you want something from me. Get on with it then.” Michael gestures with his hand for Harry to continue speaking but instead of saying anything, Harry pushes past Michael and into his hotel room.

It’s dirty; clothes and room service trays are scattered around everywhere causing the room to seem like the picture-perfect representation of what a teenage boy with a credit card would do if he got the chance to stay at a five-star hotel. Harry rolls his eyes and prances over to an arm chair, swiftly pushing all clothes on it to the floor.

After he gets himself situated, Harry looks up at Michael and cocks his head. “Do you like boys?”

Michael blinks again, looking half-asleep now. “No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“Could you  _pretend_ to like boys?”

Michael sighs, looking annoyed. “Can you please just let me in on whatever plan you’re concocting up in that weird-ass mind of yours, please? I’d like to get back to my nap before the show.”

“Well Michael Clifford,” Harry begins, stroking an imaginary beard. Michael throws him a pointed, pained look. “You see, my boyfriend seems intent on—making his presence _known_ to the other boys on the tour,” Harry says, lips pursed. “I’d like to make him jealous, Michael.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

Harry grins devilishly.

***

It went from tweets, to shameless Instagram cuddling photos, to drawing penises on each other’s shirts, to touching each other whenever time permitted.

It’s a lot like how things with Harry and Louis started. Well, except for the Instagraming pictures part because if Louis and Harry had shared their intimacy with the world when they first got together—well, they would be both out of a job as well up to their necks in fines for child pornography (seeing as Harry was a mere baby at only sixteen when they first started dating)(and yes, they were a bit clingy and _open_ with what happened in their relationship).

At first, Harry finds it absolutely _hilarious_ the way Louis reacts to “Mirry” (what the fans have started calling Michael and Harry—not that there really _is_ a MichaelandHarry, but for all intents and purpose, the fans like boy on boy quite a lot, it seems). Whenever a new picture is uploaded, Louis scrunches his nose up in distaste and then afterwards, he mutters some incoherent phrases under his breath and stalks off to find Liam or Niall.

When Louis has left the room, Harry finds himself barking out a laugh and cackling into his palm. Then, after he’s caught his breath, he picks up his phone and immediately texts Michael Louis’ reaction.

Michael usually ends up replying with a, _when’re you gonna hold up ur end of the bargain, styles?_

Harry just bites his lip, telling him, _soon .x_

***

The whole thing with Michael was seriously only supposed to be a laugh.

Harry _knew_ that Michael didn’t have feelings for him and he also knew for sure that he didn’t like Michael like _that_ either. Harry simply needed Michael to help him out and being the great friend Michael was, he simply helped Harry.

Louis wasn’t supposed to actually get _mad_ over it all.

The three of them—Harry, Michael, and Louis—are watching TV in the tour bus after a show. Or, Michael and Harry are watching TV while Louis’ eyes are glued to his phone.

Everything’s fine and dandy, as things are in Gossip Girl. Well, up until Chuck and Blair get into a car accident; that’s when shit hits the ceiling.

At the same time that the car spins out of control on screen, Louis lets out a “Fucking shit!”

Startled by the sudden outburst from the boy who has been quiet all evening, both Harry and Michael’s heads snap towards Louis instantaneously.

“Fuck _both_ of you arseholes,” Louis grumbles before running out of the room with his phone in hand.

Michael raises his eyebrows, alarmed. “Shit.”

Harry swallows thickly, heartbeat picking up and nausea almost overwhelming him.

“Styles,” Michael hisses, toeing Harry with his scuffed-up converse. “Go fix it, you fuck. And clear my name.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice. Harry’s clambering to get up before the last word leaves Michael’s mouth.

***

Harry stands in front of Louis’ bunk, uncertain. (Well, technically it’s _their_ bunk, since they share it and all. But that doesn’t matter at the moment.)

“Lou,” Harry croaks. He can barely hear himself over the blood rushing to his head from the sudden drama. “Louis, _please_ give me a chance to explain. _Please._ ”

“Go away,” Louis mumbles wearily.  

“Seriously Louis, you’re going to give me an aneurism if you don’t let me tell you what’s going on.”

Louis sighs and rips open the velvet curtain. He looks pissed off but at the same time, Harry’s heart _aches_ with how adorable he is. He looks like an angry little kitty as he’s swimming in one of Harry’s too-large jumpers, and Harry just _really_ wants to kiss that frown off of his boyfriend’s face.

“So there _is_ something going on,” Louis says eventually, eyebrows raised.

Harry is quick to shake his head vigorously. “Nononono. Lou. Seriously. This was all a ploy.”

“A _ploy_ ,” Louis repeats sounding incredulous. “ _Real_ ly.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet. Then,

“Well Harold, aren’t you going to explain _what exactly_ it was a ploy _for?_ ”

Harry clears his throat. “Oh, right. So basically, you see. Michael needed a wingman to woo Camilla Cabello. And, like. I needed—“

“Hold on,” Louis laughs. “ _You_ were going to be Michael’s _wing_ man!?”

“Lou, that’s not the point.”

“Well, I’m sorry but that’s—“

“Lou _is._ ”

Louis chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Out with the rest of it, boy.”

Harry pouts. “You lost _interest_ in me. You totally stopped hanging out with me and went for Niall and Liam instead!”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow. “Wait—you thought I lost _interest_ in you.”

Harry nods meekly, looking down at his sock-clad feet.

Louis gets out of the bunk and stands up so that he’s only inches away from Harry. “Hey, _you_.”

Harry bites his lip, still looking down.

“Head up, love,” Louis sings, to the tune of that song-- _Stubborn Love_ by The Lumineers—that they both like. “Hazza. Baby. I could _never_ lose interest in you.”

Harry begins to shake his head, finally looking up into the bright blue eyes that he knows so well. “Lou--“

“Ah ah ah,” Louis chides, shaking a finger in Harry’s face. “Don’t _Lou_ me.”

Harry smiles faintly.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Hazza. I really was only trying to be a better friend to Liam and Niall cos I thought that the boys minded that you and I spent so much time together.”

“Louis, it’s not your fault,” Harry says quietly. “It’s _my_ fault for being so—so sensitive. I should’ve talked to you and not done the whole thing with Michael.”

Louis rolls his eyes. He mumbles, “I shouldn’t have been so quick to get jealous.”

Harry smirks. “Can I ask _what_ you got jealous of?”

Louis blushes all the way to the tips of his ears. “ThepictureofMichael’slovebite,” he says under his breath.

Harry cackles in delight, clapping his hands. “That wasn’t even me who gifted him with that!”

Louis licks his lips. “Well that’s a relief. Was gonna beat him after this but he’s safe for now.”

Harry chuckles and places his hands on either side of Louis’ cheeks. He lightly thumbs over Louis’ perfectly defined cheekbones while Louis looks up at him with a fond smile. “Seriously, Lou,” he begins. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay, Harry,” Louis sighs. Then, he smirks. “ _Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days—“_

“LOUIS!” Harry shrieks in delight, pushing his boyfriend away. “How very _dare_ you sing Hannah Montana at me!”

Louis places his hands on his hips, shaking them from side to side while raising his voice impossible high. _“Everybody knows what, what I’m talking ‘bout, everybody gets that WAY!”_

“Holy shit,” Harry says to himself, face-palming. “I’m in love with an idiot.”

Louis just laughs and jumps into Harry’s arms.

***

“Guesswhatguesswhatguesswhatguesswhat!?” Louis shrieks in Harry’s face as they’re walking backstage at a venue in America a couple of weeks later.

Harry snorts. “ _What_ you over-excited _child._ ”

“I am no _child_ , baby Hazza,” Louis scolds. “Anyway, you won’t _believe_ who Michael appointed to be his wingman?”

Harry stops walking and crosses his arms over his chest. “ _You!?”_

Louis beams. “Mmm _hmm_.”

Harry frowns. “That is absolutely _not_ fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war, Hazza,” Louis calls over his shoulder as he scurries off, winking at Harry.

“You’re a walking, talking cliché,” Harry screams after Louis. Then, he smiles and like a secret, he whispers to himself, “But I love you so fucking much.”

**Author's Note:**

> please don't go, iloveyousoiloveyouso (◑‿◐)
> 
> yep, i take prompts [here](http://burberrharry.tumblr.com/) so swing on by if you want sumfin + tanks a wot for weading <3


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